Bloody Foreigners

I went to hospital today for a check-up on my aches and pains.
The start of my journey was a short bus ride to the metro. The only other person waiting at the bus stop was an African Muslim woman who was engrossed with her mobile telephone.
A few minutes later a stocky, light brown, middle-aged male - a North African type - joined us.
He was obviously a migrant or an asylum-seeker.

When the bus came, the African Muslim woman was the first to board. The North African type smiled at me and signaled with his arm that I should get on next.
Now, you cannot pull the wool over my eyes. He was clearly trying to hide his evilness by being polite to strangers.
I put on my best Cheshire cat smile and gestured with my arm that he should get on first. 

He replied with another smile and another arm gesture, signalling that I should board the bus before him.

I thought to myself, two can play at this game, you evil man.

I gave him my Rudolph Valentino smile that I usually reserve for special occasions and entreated him to get on the bus with an expansive arm gesture. 

The bus driver was getting impatient. He glared at us. Eventually the North African type got on the bus first.

Bloody foreigners.